Josephine Crouch
by AlwaysPadfoot
Summary: Josephine's having a lazy summer, until her father arrives home early and learns she's not followed any of the rules he's set.


_Warnings for strict parenting that borderlines child abuse._

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**Josephine Crouch**

* * *

It had been the best summer ever.

With my father away the majority of the time, I had been left to my own devices at home. Winky, of course, had been around to clean and cook, but apart from him moping around I'd been free to do what I wanted; I didn't have to follow a single one of my father's stupid rules about keeping up my training and practise. I'd been able to visit friends, sleep in until noon, and stay in my pyjamas all day. It had been far more relaxing than normal.

At first, when I arrived home to an empty house, I had wanted to know exactly what was keeping Dad so busy. Now I didn't care. Whatever it was meant that I got time to herself. It was probably his work or something.

With only a week to go before I returned for my fourth year, I found myself unperturbed by the fact I had woken up at nearly one in the afternoon.

The house was quiet with the exception of Gerald's gentle cooing from his cage as he slept.

Having gotten all of my supplies for fourth year last week with Susan, I mulled over the possibility of perhaps trying to get through some of my summer homework. Usually, with Dad around, he would have made me do it in the first week of summer. _Homework first, everything else second_, he'd always said. Right now I would be lucky if I'd done half.

Eventually dragging myself out of bed, I went to hunt down food. Upon my arrival in the kitchen, Winky appeared accompanied by a high-pitched pop.

"Can I be making you breakfast, Miss?"

I waved him off like I did every morning. "No, no. I'll just get myself some Cheeriowls. Thanks though."

"As you wishes, Miss Crouch."

Then, with a similar pop to before, Winky returned to whatever chore he'd been doing before I had woken up. I poured myself some cereal and a glass of juice and then sat down at the kitchen table, tucking a leg underneath myself.

Absentmindedly eating cereal was how I spent most mornings, or afternoons in this case.

I was just about to start pondering a plan of attack regarding my homework when the Floo flared to life in the adjoining room. Muttering a swear word under my breath, I knew I had to think fast so that her dad didn't think I'd just woken up. Listening to Winky take dad's coat and bags, I hesitated. Wondering whether I might be able to slip away, I had left it too late.

"Josephine, what are you doing in your pyjamas?"

I flushed. "Oh, I woke up this morning feeling really nauseous and headachy so I've only just felt well enough to come my get some food."

"If you were ill, Winky should have aided you," Dad responded simply.

"I didn't want to bother him... I think I just needed some more—"

"—stand up." Dad interrupted, drawing his wand from his holster.

I knew better than to disobey him so reluctantly I put my spoon down and stood, trying my best to look as though I'd been sick. "Honestly, Dad, I feel better now."

He waved his wand without another word. I felt a wave of familiar magic wash over her and I knew he was checking for any sign that I was ill. I shifted from one foot to the other. There was a long drawn out moment of silence and I could feel Dad's gaze boring into the top of my head as I looked down at my feet.

"Go get changed," he said. "Now."

The sudden crescendo of his voice with that finally word made me jump and immediately I abandoned my cereal and left the kitchen.

I supposed I had sort of let go of my usual routine. I had barely done any of my Hogwarts work; none of the extra work Dad had set me either. It was grim outlook really; he was going to be so pissed off. Having not even gone for a run in four days, I was probably going to be out of practice and most definitely caught out when Dad tried to catch me off guard.

Dressing quickly, I affixed the holster to my side and slipped my wand inside.

_Holsters are invaluable when you're facing an adversary._

Dad had got it for me when I turned eleven. Being the kind of person who insisted that I was able to defend myself from a young age, he'd taught me jinxes and counter-curses, duelling and self-defence. I was more prepared than any of my housemates if someone tried to curse me. When I was younger I'd loved it. I loved learning; I guess people would say I loved showing-off. Now, I guess it was great that I could use magic outside school because dad had removed the trace, but it made me think that Dad was exceptionally over-the-top protective.

Pulling a cardigan over my t-shirt, I returned downstairs expecting Dad to have disappeared, but instead he was sat at the kitchen table with today's prophet and a cup of tea.

He didn't even look up from the page when he spoke.

"So, whilst I've been away this summer what have you been doing exactly?"

"Um, nothing much—"

"—that is evident, Josephine," he responded.

I gritted my teeth. "Well, I got my supplies for fourth year with Susan last week, and the weekend before that Susan, Hannah, and I went camping. I've done most of my summer work."

"Most of?" Dad looked up from the paper and raised an eyebrow. "Not all of?"

"Um, yeah, I've just got a little bit left," I said, my voice less confident sounding than I wanted it to be.

"And the stances and spells I left you to study?" The silence was too long and before I could make up a lie, Dad's eyes narrowed. "I'm very disappointed. You will finish your summer work today and this evening at dinner we will talk about the outcome of your slacking."

"Okay," I mumbled.

"Do I make myself clear Josephine Crouch?"

I hated when he made me feel like a little kid. Feeling somewhat hard done by, I nodded sharply. "Yes, sir."

He waved me away and I retreated to my room without another word. It felt a little harsh to make me do all my remaining work this afternoon. Then again, I didn't really want to admit how much I had left, because he'd probably be livid.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

Come seven, when Winky informed me that dinner was ready, I'd completed Potions, Muggle Studies, Herbology and Astronomy. I still had History of Magic and Defence to do, but four pieces of work was pretty impressive. Well, it was to me. Dad would probably think it was inadequate.

I pulled a jumper over my head and made myself look somewhat presentable for dinner.

Unsurprisingly, Dad was already sat at the table when I arrived in the dining room. The atmosphere was still delightfully awkward between us so I slipped into my seat in silence, allowing Winky to pour me a glass of water. I swallowed thickly. Dad was purposefully watching me but not saying a thing, a glass of red wine in his hand. I did my best to avoid his gaze. I didn't want to be the one to break the silence; I was nothing if not stubborn — a trait that Dad regularly referred to as Gryffindor-like.

"So, you've clearly let yourself down this summer, is something wrong?" Dad asked.

That caught me off guard, and as I looked up, he seemed serious — legitimately concerned. "I—no. I've just—I'm just. It's been quiet and I've just lost track of things. You've been away, a lot."

"I've been working, Josephine," Dad replied, putting his glass down. "Though I didn't realise you needed looking after."

"I don't need looking after—"

"—but you clearly need someone to keep you on task," Dad said. "This summer has been a one off; it won't happen again. You are far better than this."

"I'm not—I. Dad," I began.

"Josephine, you are my daughter. I know you are better than most," he said. "Therefore, tonight you will finish your Hogwarts work, and then tomorrow we will be doing some extensive work to get you back on track."

"Why," I started and then was cut off by Winky serving dinner.

I realised that Dad wanted me to exceed and be able to defend myself, but I often wondered whether there was some driving reason as to why he pushed me to my limits. I fell quiet as dinner commenced, but then Dad spoke up.

"You were going to say something?"

"Oh, no, it doesn't matter," I responded.

"It clearly does," he said. "I'd rather you be honest at this point — since you've already kept so much to yourself this summer."

I shook my head. "It really doesn't matter."

"Josephine."

I sucked in a breath, knowing I would have to say something now. Inhaling deeply, I decided to be brave and question his authority. "Why do you insist on me working all summer? No one else's parents do that."

Dad lowered his wine glass, his eyes boring into mine.

"No one else's parents care for the safety of their own child then," he responded.

"I find that hard to believe."

"Did you not read what happened at the World Cup, Josephine?" Dad said pointedly. "What would you have done if you'd been there and come face-to-face with one of the Dark Lords followers?"

Briefly shuddering at the thought, I faltered. "I mean, I wasn't there—"

"—and if you had been?"

"You taught me to duel," I said brazenly. "I'd have been okay."

Dad raised an eyebrow in derision, a humorous look crossing his face. "Are you trying to tell me that you would be able to duel a Death Eater?"

"If I had to," I said.

To my surprise, Dad laughed and picked up his wine again finishing the glass. Then, without another word, he got to his feet drawing his wand.

"Stand up," he commanded.

My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "What? In the middle of dinner?"

"Do you think a Death Eater is going to care that you're halfway through your dinner? Get up, Josephine."

I'd barely got my wand in my hand before a jinx came spiralling towards me. Luckily, I just managed to block it and it left a black mark on the wall to my right. I automatically shifted into a duelling stance just as Dad shot another spell towards me. He was casting non-verbally so I had no idea what might hit me.

I had to remain defensive at first, to catch up. We hadn't duelled in a while so I struggled to find a rhythm.

When I finally cast an offensive spell it flew so wildly off-target that Dad laughed at me. "That was a poor attempt."

I could feel myself sweating, losing my calm as I launched a curse towards him. It found its target, but he easily deflected it away from him with a flick of his wrist.

"Better, but still terrible."

Wielding his wand he cast a quick succession, I managed to deflect two but the third spell collided with my shoulder and spun me sideways.

Hot pain exploded across my skin.

Gasping for breath, I dropped to my knees. But despite the ringing in my ears, I could hear Dad shouting at me to get to my feet. The whole room blurred around me as I forced myself up; my eyes were watering.

_Pain isn't an excuse to stop fighting._

Gritting my teeth, I ignored the pain in my shoulder and staggered back into a stance. Flashes of blue hurtled through the air, I deflected spell after spell causing chaos in the dining room. The table was upturned — plates and glasses smashed. I was losing focus rapidly and I'd well and truly switched to acting entirely defensively now.

Finally, I lost concentration entirely.

A dark blue spell hit me square in the chest and knocked me off my feet into the wall behind me.

Crumpling, I saw stars, vision going white at the edges. The air rushed out of me and I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even force myself to suck a breath in for a long — terrifying — moment. Pain washed over me then and I bit into the inside of my cheek. When I finally managed to make out the shapes around me, I desperately scrambled for my wand.

Dad stepped in between me and the wand and I fell still, realising I'd well and truly lost.

"Do you still think you could duel with a Death Eater and live to tell the tale?"

"No, sir," I responded weakly.

"And you understand why I push you to better yourself?"

"Yes, sir."

He offered me his hand and pulled me to my feet. I winced slightly, my shoulder twinging as I stood. Feeling myself flush in embarrassment, I felt painfully stupid about saying anything at all about the way Dad treated me. He was only trying to help.

"Let me see that shoulder," he said.

Sitting me down, I pulled my top over my head so he could see. My shoulder had gone bright red and had started blistering.

I pulled a face, sucking a breath through my teeth.

Dad summoned some burn paste from the bathroom and applied it for me. I chewed on my lip, stinging pain making my eyes water. I stayed stoically silent whilst he sorted it, regretting my life choices. I just wanted to go to bed now, no longer interested in anything else.

"Don't be so arrogant in future, Josephine," Dad said. "Go rest. Be ready for seven tomorrow."

"Okay, yeah," I mumbled. "Night."

I heard him shout for Winky to clean when I got to the top of the stairs. Exhausted, I collapsed on my bed fully clothed and trying to not focus on the pain in my shoulder. I felt run down. I wanted to complain, but at the same time I knew he was only trying to help me. He was right, of course, that in the face of a Death Eater is end up dead, but I could be better.

I'd just have to try harder.

* * *

_A/N: This is an AU, so Winky is male and Bartimus Crouch Jr stayed out of prison and had a daughter instead._

_Written for QLFC Round 7 Keeper Prompt: Write about the consequences of breaking a rule or law._


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